Prelude
by NightinBlack
Summary: I was a coward. The plot was large and scary. Needless to say, I tried to avoid it as much as I could.


Well then….

This is just something I'm trying out. While not my first fanfiction, it is my first realistic take I should think. I'm unsure if this is just going to end up being a oneshot or not, in my mind the story continues into future movies but as is I have terrible motivation and this is all that I've drafted so far so it probably won't ever be continued…. Still, please, enjoy. Not the greatest writer, I admit, but I'm still writing and developing my own style so please no huge flames…. Please? Also, not proofread!

Here's a random cookie. Thank you for reading.

Disclaimer: Obviously, own none of the cannon characters or plot… If only…..

Ah, how to start this…? Beginnings were, or _are,_ always the hardest for me you see. The lines of before and after are blurred into an indecipherable blob that nobody, never mind me, would be able to read. The beginning of stories give me even more trouble. When did mine truly start? Was it on the 19th of February 1943, the date on which a chubby pink baby came sliding into the world? Or was it that date sometime in the crisp autumn air when I first came into contact with a whole other world I hadn't even know had existed? The date on which I met the one with those extraordinary eyes? Who's to say. _I_ certainly cannot. The ability to discern which event is most important to be deemed the title of 'beginning' certainly was not one of the talents I was ever born with.

Endings I had once viewed to be easy. Now, I am not sure. Does death end one's story? Or does it continue, onto their next life, in the endless cycle of karma? Cycle. That word seems most befitting of how I view life. For how can one judge the starting and ending point of existence when they know with certainty that it lacks such limits?

But that is an explanation for another time. For now, I shall simply contradict myself and commence with my story with a single event. For this event, despite the cyclical nature of life, is painted most vividly within my mind.

Welcome, to the story of Anastasha Carter. Previously named Rebecca Hertk. And before that, Rhodina Ferry. So on and so forth. Most just call me Remembrance.

 _And the curtain rises…._

Perhaps the fact that remains on the forefront of my brain everyday is how mind numbingly _boring_ the 60s are. Or the 50s. Or really any date that has happened or will happen up until the creation of the world-wide web in the 1990s. And really, even that will be monotonous until the creation and the release of visual reality or AUtrive. I mean really, I don't know how my great-grandparents did it. No internet? No Google? How did they do it?! I, for one, definitely would have not survived high school if I hadn't known practically all the easy curriculum my backwater high school had offered. Besides the fact that the history was a bit different, having been born in a bit north of the United States this time around, the subjects were mostly the same (minus computing, for obvious reasons) albeit some of the facts and figures were a bit off due to incompetent machinery.

Most of my time was taken up by inventing. Well, it would have been called inventing if not for the fact that I was just copying designs I had seen in my last life. Though, that will be a secret I will take to my grave.

"Hey! Ana! What's got you daydreaming? Not often I see you like this." Hale, the bartender remarks and consequently shaking me out of my musings.

"It's nothing Hale. Just thinking of some other designs I'm working on. I can't get the damn thing to work." I laugh off my absentmindedness, running my hands through my bangs as I do so.

"If you say so. Want another beer? On the house, as usual." The stout German man rumbles, accepting my excuse without a comment. He had, after all, long ago gotten used to it.

"No, I think I'm buzzed enough for one night. And I finished fixing up that tap for you. Remind me next time as well, I think I have another experimental draft ready to go." I chug down the last drops of my beer and slam the mug on the table, grimacing at the taste.

Hale, grinning at the reaction he had witnessed every time I drank one of his home brews, just keeps on wiping away at the fragile piece of glass in his large hands. "You know, I don't know what I'd do without you Ana. You're always fixing up my equipment, giving me new beer flavors to stock, watching my baby girl, and not to mention the amount of inventions of yours that you've let me use." Hale eyes the beer tap I had just yesterday installed, already insisting it was way more efficient and all-around better than his last tap. I had rolled my eyes at that. It was basically a design from the 22nd century, of course it was better.

Waving it off, I smile at him and furtively tap some cash onto the counter. "It's no problem. I'm just grateful to you for letting me test my designs out in your bar. God knows no one else would let me." Widening my smile, I turn to go and raise a hand in farewell, ignoring the man's complaints of how I never let him pay for my drinks.

Laughing at his antics, I continue on, passing a baby-blue eyed man and a slender blonde on the way out. "One beer and a cola please!" The man orders, a grin on his face.

Nobody, not even Hale, noticed my slight pause by the door and the faintly shell shocked expression I wore on my face.

Well that was new. And I'm not sure I'm quite up to the monumental implications it's sure to imply.

 _And the curtain falls….._

"How's school going for you Ana?" Hale randomly asks the next day. I stare at him blankly for a minute, still caught up in my thoughts. Maybe it wouldn't be such a good idea to have come back to Hale's bar so soon? But then again it wouldn't make much of a difference because there's a very low chance of him seeing me and an even lesser one of seeing me and thinking that there's anything remotely extraordinary about me. So I'm probably just overthinking things. Right? Well of course there's that tiny detail about him being able to read minds. There's that too… Ah who am I kidding, I'm screwed.

"Ana!" Hale yells out suddenly, effectively scaring me out of my thoughts. "I'm a bit worried about you. What's going on with you and your daydreaming recently? It's getting out of hand." Hale frets, giving me a distinct impression of a mother bird. Perhaps that's how he has coped so well with being a single dad.

"It's nothing Hale. Just worried about school is all." I sigh out. Luckily, Hale _isn't_ a telepath and he sighs with me.

"Look, I know you got into a fancy-pancy school-"

"Oxford. I got into Oxford." I cut in, running my hands through my bangs.

"Yes, Oxford. But Ana, I know you can do it. You're an amazing young woman." Hale beams at me, before turning his attention to his glass of beer that I had poured him. After pondering it for a few seconds, he abruptly grabs the mug and chugs down a few sips. Looking surprised at the taste, he returns the glass to the counter and continues to ponder it. "And besides," He continues. "If all else fails you can come and work for me. Or sell your inventions. Or your beer." Hale gives a pointed look at the now empty mug.

"That's not the point. It's just… I don't know. I'm beginning to think that I made the wrong decision to go to college. Being made to sit in a classroom all day just to later find a job where I sit in a cubicle all day just isn't me." Besides, I've already had enough of that in my last life.

Giving me a knowing smile and with a twinkle in his eye, Hale adds, "Well, in that case. I met a man yesterday. Him and his sister walked in right as you were leaving, maybe you saw him." That gets my attention. Sitting ramrod straight, I cautiously listen as Hale continues. "He was quite taken with your beer tap design. And your beer if I remember correctly. He asked where I obtained them and I told him if he swung around around the same time tomorrow he would be able to meet her."

Giving Hale a terrified glower, I almost strangle him in my panic. "You didn't!"

"Honey, I did. He seemed rather wealthy and interested in your designs. I know you're sensitive about letting people know how much of a genius you really are, but you have to let go of that. If he endorses you, you've got a surefire climb to the top of the social ladder with your inventions." Knowing that he was right and was only looking out for my wellbeing wasn't any comfort. If the man was the same person as I was thinking about, then I really didn't want to get involved. "Speaking of the devil…" Hale looks over my shoulder, causing me to robotically turn mine as well.

"Hello! My name is Charles Xavier, and I couldn't help but overhearing you talking about me." Ignoring Charles's curious glance at me, I turn back to my own home brew. Yep, I'm screwed. So much for staying out of the way.

….

"So Ana, about what I said the other day-" I cut Charles off with a frantic wave of my hand.

"Ahaha I'm really not looking into selling my designs. It's just something I do on the side for fun, and I'm not looking to make any money off it." I turn my head away, giving the man a not-too-subtle hint to scram.

Despite being telepathic, the man has a tendency of being very thick when it comes to a women's hints. Or perhaps he's just studiously ignoring them. "Well, I still think you should do a trial run working for me. I've got a very nice space I could set you up in. All you have to do is to say yes, and I'll immediately whisk you away there!" Charles subtly lifts his index finger to the side of his forehead, in a pose that I assume is to use persuasion on me.

Smiling nervously, I steel myself for the inevitable invasion of my mind, thinking of ways to get out of this sticky situation. Which never comes.

"Charles!" Raven squeals, latching onto her brother's arm. The girl looks deeply into the other's blue eyes and seemingly has a silent conversation with him. Which I assume that they actually did, only instead of being with their eyes, it was telepathic. Perhaps Raven stood up for me? Asked him not to invade my privacy? That seems rather likely, as I had grown very close to the shape-shifting woman after all of the duo's visits to Hale's bar. I had confided with her several times, stressing how much of a private person I am. Hopefully that got the hint across.

"Ah yes, well, it seems I have forgotten a previous commitment. I won't pressure you further, but I do wish you'd further consider my offer, Ana." Charles announces, after a brief glance at his watch. Nodding at Hale on his way out, with Raven following close behind him, the man makes his exit.

A big sigh and a large mug of beer later, I muse at the man who had quickly became a large part of my life. Despite only knowing each other for less than two months, Charles came in to bug me almost every day, with his sister mostly tagging along. When he wasn't complaining about how I wouldn't work for him, though, the man was surprisingly nice to talk to. He was very intelligent, and we'd had many intellectual conversations together, ranging from various topics from cooking to - of course his favorite - evolution. I was used to being a loner and despite the fact I had Hale, it just wasn't the same as I had nobody to talk to about things that they could relate to. While very sweet, Hale was just not the intellectual type. And so I struggled. I really did. Charles was very kind, and it made me feel guilty about the decision I had made about not interfering with the plot. This man - one of my only _friends_ in both of my lives - was going to become _crippled_ because of my cowardice. But my selfishness won out. I had died once, and I was done with the heroic bullshit. In the end, the good guys won and there was no major casualties. So it was all good… right?

….

Glancing at the party goers at the bar, I wince. This scene is looking awfully familiar.

Making eye contact with the current bar-tender on duty, Norman, I smile and ask for a glass of water. Sipping it as I watch Charles chug down all that alcohol, I start to pity his liver. Also, I pity myself, because a critical moment is about to go down, and I still haven't made up my goddamn mind. Interfere or not?

Watching Moira talk to Charles, I stand up, take a deep breath, and prepare to march over there to spill everything to them. To help avoid the catastrophe that was the plot. Totally ignore all of my common sense (oh my god how am I going to explain all of this?).

However, when I look up, they're gone.

I had missed my chance.

…..

My second chance came when Charles and Moira charge into the bar, presumably looking for me. Or at least that's what I interpreted from their wild, searching eyes.

Finally seeing me in the corner, Charles charges over and grabs my hand. Pulling me gently, but determinedly, the man heads towards Moira who had remained at the door. "Ana, I know that this is out of the blue, but you have to come with us. Moira here is a United States government employee, so there is no need to be alarmed. There's been an emergency, and we believe-" Moira cuts off Charles with a look that seemed to convey that she did not approve of them wasting time here. I take this opportunity to yank my wrist out of his grasp as well. " _I_ believe that your talents could help us. Now, there's not much time, but if you come with us, I'll fill you in in the car." Charles resumes, looking slightly peevish.

Giving him an apologetic look and a pained smile, I reply. "I already know."

"What?" Charles whips around, giving me a searching look.

"Sebastian Shaw, correct?" Charles looks bewildered, and Moira shoots me a dangerous look. Hurrying to explain before she can shoot me on grounds of being a spy, I continue. "I'm _not_ a spy. I've just always had the tendency to know things that I shouldn't. Glimpses. Distorted images, sounds, movement…" I trail off, reaching my hand up to ruffle my bangs. "Blueprints." I look back up to see one slightly confused woman and an enlightened male. I strain to smile once more.

"You are…" Charles breathes, looking absolutely euphoric. He gives me another searching look, then finally raises his index finger to his temple. Seeing my frightened expression, he smiles and explains. "I'm also like you. I've always had a unique… unexplainable power." Nodding once, as though to reassure himself, he continues. "I'm telepathic."

I gape, unable to process that he had just given up his secret to me. He could have tried to just read my mind and I wou- _should_ have been none the wiser. Misinterpreting my expression as shock, Charles smiles. "I'll prove it to you now, and reaffirm that you are not a spy at the same time." He conveys an apologetic facade. "Can you think of one of these times you had one of these flashes? Perhaps about Shaw?" The man requests.

Slowly nodding, I try to think about what memory I could show him. The movie perhaps? But without the picture. Nodding to myself, I close my eyes and manipulate my memories. Charles, I'm subconsciously aware, pokes in to view. Replaying the audio-only memory, I show him one of the opening scenes where Shaw states his name and bad intentions. The very memory, in fact, that Moira had ended up eavesdropping onto.

When it's over, I open my eyes and stare at Charles. He stares back.

Clearing her voice, Moira finally brings me back to Earth, making an expecting face at Charles. The said man gives a slight nod, still staring at me. Awkwardly, we wait. Finally snapping out of it, Charles blushes and stutters out, "Oh… yeah. She heard the same scene you did Moira, the one you overhead in the club. It was word for word what I saw in your memories." Charles looks slightly bewildered.

I cracking a smile, I decide to enact my cowardly act before I get too hung up on this all. "If that's all, I do believe you have a villain to catch."

Charles looks even more bewildered, if that is possible, at my last statement. "You don't want to come with us? To help? Not only your technical skill with be very helpful, but your unique one as well."

I look towards Moira, who gives an awkward nod of her head as well. Running my fingers through my bangs, I turn around so I don't have to face them. "I do have some tips for you." I hold one finger up. "One, the mind sees all, but is still a delicate and vulnerable piece of the body. Exposing it does not always yield the results expected." I stick a second finger up. "Two, be wary of those close to you. Angels may very well be demons in disguise." A third goes up. "Third, steel, rocks and gills are useful on the outside, but cannot cope with the dangers from within." A last finger goes up and my eyelids go down, squeezed shut to prevent any liquid from escaping the delicate organ they protect. I so dearly hope I won't regret this. Regret playing God. Vague hints won't be the same… right?

"Finally." Resolutely opening my eyes and turning to Moira, I heavily enunciate my every word. "Do. Not. Shoot."

With that, I turn and flee upstairs, leaving a heavily silence behind me.

 _Afterwards_

"Good morning!" I cheerfully greet the customer who opens the door to my shop, causing the door bell to chime cheerfully. Attending to one of my smaller projects, I don't bother to turn around until a rough voice calls my attention.

"Good morning indeed, Ana." I freeze. That voice…

Slowly turning around, I face the man whom I have not spoken to since that fateful day at the bar. Well, face would not be completely accurate. I have to look down in order to see the man sitting in the wheelchair.

"Charles…" I breath.

"This is a very nice place you've got here Ana. I never expected, after all that rejecting of my offers, that you would turn right around and open your own technology shop." The man looks around in wonder, taking in my many projects, from gardens to solar powered setups.

"This is…" I search for words, at a complete loss.

"Ah, you don't have to explain. I was just teasing you." Charles chuckles, eyes glinting with mirth. Catching my eyes laying on his legs, he laughs harder. "Oh, you mean these old things. Only temporary." Charles loses his humorous tone as he wistfully rubs his legs. "Your warning did the trick, you know. Not the first three, mind you, though I think you expected that. A warning for the warning, so to speak."

Charles finally rounds his eyes on me, which I interpret as slightly accusing. I was a terrible person. I knew it from the moment I chose to keep myself from potential harm and sacrifice lives I knew were going to end. And when I told those 'predictions', I was only trying to satisfy myself by doing something that I could tell myself was good. That I had helped. Only now I realize I hadn't actually helped anyone after all. There is no good to be found in playing God.

Ignoring my internal dispute, Charles continues. He continues and contradicts everything I had just told myself. "You are a hard woman to find. I admit, I didn't expect you to be practically right next door, of all places. However, I did not come here to admonish you. Hank." Charles finally twists his head so that he can address the boy who was pushing his mode of transportation.

Hank, looking slightly fretful, assists Charles in leveraging his body out of the chair. Meanwhile, I look on, at a loss as what to do.

Charles, with the boy's help, manages to stand, though weakly. Ever so slowly, Hank releases his grip on Charles, the only thing that was holding the older man up. Unnerved, I rush to save the falling man, but am stopped by his small steps. A determined expression dominates his face, and he slowly but surely walks towards me.

Finally.

He reaches me. Grabbing my hands that had since gone limp at my sides, Charles holds them up to his mouth to kiss them.

"Thank you, Anastasha. Truly, thank you. I cannot thank you enough for helping me keep my legs!" Tears start pooling down Charles' face, startling me. "I know you feel guilty. Darwin was not saved. Angel switched sides still. But despite all that, you still helped someone. You still helped me. So, although I know you still feel the heavy weight of responsibility that every mutant has, don't feel so bad. Please. You are a wonderful human being Anastasha Carter."

Charles beams down at me, and all of a sudden I feel like this new life isn't as horrible as before. I was… doing some meaningful and good things…..

"And if you ever need me, I'll be right there for you. Always will there be a place by my side for you." Slipping a card into my hand, Charles sends one more dazzling smile my way.

Then he is gone. Leaving only blaringly obvious empty wheelchair and a business card that reads _Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters._

End


End file.
